Novels2Search

2.21

I realize after being outdoors for most of these two days that I have somehow lost the capacity to live a simple life. My life isn’t simple anymore. I knew this from the time technology became a staple. As the size of the black screen became smaller and smaller, we became caught in its puppetry.

Over the last twenty-four hours, I haven't checked any of my social media accounts. They are there in my phone, a click away. But I didn’t launch them to check out if the network was working or not. It hasn’t caused any distress in me. Normally I go down the rabbit hole from time to time among the many platforms that populate my smartphone. A minute stretches to half an hour. Sometimes it hits the hour mark. When I step out of it, I don't think there is a feeling of the time spent being fruitful. In fact, it is quite the opposite.

Getting into a social media black hole always ends up with a desire to do something that would result in someone else doom scrolling their way through whatever I had to offer. I don't know if content is made that way. I have seen people who make content that is wholesome and to the point. I have also seen people make it just for the sake of making it and keeping their audiences engaged. This at times makes me question what good content is. Or how should content be made? There are no set rules for it. Every platform has a different criterion and to cater to them all, one should be flexible and adaptive.

Seeing all this I too want to be a creator. I don't know what I will create but yeah, I want to be a creator. I want to create good content. Because I know how much time is consumed by these media outlets, I want to create something meaningful, one that will be of use to someone. They should not feel they have lost their valuable time consuming it. I can't cater to everyone. That is not how it is. I used to think if I ever had to create something, it should resonate with everyone. Over time I have corrected myself. You need to be specific and pick your audience. Only then can you resonate with them and create good content.

This brings in a tricky question. Is my different take on media because of consuming the wrong content? What if this viewpoint I have is made up of all the content I had consumed that was never made for me? Why did I consume them when I knew it was not for me?

I guess the fear of missing out plays a part in it. Also the sunk cost fallacy. I am an easy victim to both. Fear of missing out makes me want to know what is happening on a day-to-day basis. Don't confuse it with the zest to be updated. That is something different. I know this is really futile, but if you don't know something you are not missing out on anything. Every second enormous amount of news and content is being created. This has caused the quality to degrade drastically. Quantity over quality is how it is nowadays. And it is being shoved down incessantly. It is more than enough to fry your brains without your knowledge.

Sunk cost fallacy hits me when I start something and don't have the balls to walk out of it even when I know this is not going well or doesn’t appeal to me. I continue with it to the end. I can't stop it midway. If I do then I am gripped with this feeling of having left something behind and thus the time I expended a waste. I wasn’t aware of this until I read about it. Now I am aware and still do it. It is like a habit for me. I have been doing this for a very long time. I can't change it suddenly. I did try applying it with a couple of books I found to be boring quarter way into it. But it left an uneasy feeling inside me. I picked one of them up and finished it. It still didn’t appeal to me. But I got over that uneasy feeling.

I remember my childhood. The memories that stay with me are in a very generalized way. And the eventful ones. Otherwise, I have forgotten a lot about it. It remains in a very condensed form. I can remember how we used to have dinner in our father's home back then. I remember who would sit where and the talks that would circulate the table. I remember the dishes that used to be served to us. These are all vague pictures in my head. I know I preferred to sit on the chair right next to the central one where Grandpa sat. I also remember the glass shelf behind it, the contents it had, and how to access them. I remember the fridge that sat at one corner of the room, the wooden shelves that sat on the other corner, and an old tailoring machine right next to it. I remember all this. But I seem to forget a lot of other things. I can't say what they are but I know this is not all.

If I try to recollect those memories as individual strands, it becomes very difficult. I remember how New Year's used to be celebrated. I don't know how it was every year. There used to be a good lunch and dinner. It is all I remember. I can't recall what we did for the rest of the day. This is what I mean when I say that I can only remember in a very general way.

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This applies to my recent memories as well. For the past year, I have been traveling through this lane almost every day I was at home. There must have been very few days when I have not gone out. Yet the whole experience remains in a very condensed form in my head. Again if I strain hard, I can recall many of the small incidents or things of interest that would have happened to me. For the time we drove the scooter from an event late at night. It was misty. Anna hugged me as I drove through our lane. It was simply beautiful. I remember that but in a generalized way. I forgot how she hugged me. I forgot the conversation we were having throughout that journey. It was about the sweet feeling of chillness and coziness. Thats it. In a very generalized manner.

I think I can do a much better job of recalling things from my childhood. It was a simple time that ultimately led to a very simple life. There weren’t any unnecessary complications. Even though convenience was low, I feel the quality of life was better than now. I don't equate the quality of life to the facilities and conveniences one has as an individual and a collective. It is a wrong metric.

If you ask me I would say the quality of life is a direct measure of how we go to sleep daily. If we can sleep peacefully consistently then we have a good life. If we can't then our quality of life is bad. There are always avenues to improve them. I agree with that. How many of us actually acknowledge this and take action? We have been soaked into such levels of comfort that it becomes insanely impossible to get out rid of it. They have penetrated our lives to such an extent that it becomes difficult to live without them.

My ride is an uneventful one. Along the road, I came across some stray dogs. I think they are the same ones from yesterday night. I am not sure though. They barked at me once. I continued with the same pace. I came across a black cat. It was on top of a wall. Even if it crossed the road, it can't bring me any more bad luck.

I reach Pongumoodu junction. I hear a sweet voice coming from the tree ahead. I see a bird fly away from it. My curiosity died the instant it rose. Before I take the right turn, I look at the opposite stretch of the road. It has the same story to tell. I continue ahead. I see the crashed car lying as it is. It was the first one I came across. Little did I know this was the tip of the iceberg.

The sun is in its full glory. I can feel the heat in my arms. But there is something different in the air. I felt it today morning also. Is it because of the lack of any kind of pollution? If so then I must say we have been polluting the environment very badly. I can feel it right now. I can't precisely define what it is. But it is good. It is way better than the sooty smoky feeling you get when you are trapped in a traffic jam. The heat generated because of it is also a different kind. I am okay with the heat from the sun. It is a natural thing. It doesn’t make me feel uneasy. The traffic kind does. It can be added to the reasons why I prefer to avoid traffic.

I wonder how it would be across the cities of the world. Traffic pollution has come to an end in an instant. There wouldn’t be any more smog. The air would be much better now. Industries would be running until the power runs out. I guess most of the cities and industries would have died out by now. Maybe some of them would be running. Soon they would also come to a standstill.

The sound of my scooter is the only thing that penetrates the shrill silence of my surroundings. The voices of the birds and the swishing of the wind are a part of the silence at times. They are there naturally. I am the one who is making an artificial sound.

There is another supermarket here. We visited it once. It was very crowded. We were shocked to see such a crowd right after the peak of the second wave. She made it clear to avoid the place until things became normal. That was my first and last visit. It has a clothing section on top along with a section for household items. I can come here if I don't find anything I am looking for at my regular supermarket.

I reach Kochulloor. I slow down my scooter. It dies away. I don't restart it. I let it run in neutral. As I drift through smoothly, I go through my surroundings. If I am to keep coming here on a daily basis, I must be well acquainted with everything that is here. I am very much familiar with it. But not in detail. I need to note down some of the details that can be of some importance. Rest I can ignore.

I reach Ulloor junction. It is very weird to see this busy junction so vacant. Silence hangs around it, which is all the more unusual. I cross to the other side and park my scooter in front of a restaurant. It is an old restaurant. It has allured me on certain occasions with the aroma of freshly fried chicken. I wanted to try it out once as part of the idea of exploring the old food joints in the city. But to stop here and get something to eat was something I wasn’t willing to entertain.

Ulloor is a junction where I don't want to get stuck. I want to cross it as soon as I reach it. Sometimes the line of vehicles can stretch for more than a kilometer, almost approaching Pongumoodu junction. I don't want to be driving a car then.

I get out of my scooter, take out my bag and keep it at the entrance to the restaurant. I also want to make my presence felt. I come back to my scooter and roll it to the middle of the junction. I park it there. This should draw out attention from anywhere. I check out the surroundings for any kind of movement or anything out of the ordinary. A couple of dogs come running in from the medical college direction. All is as it is. Even the eerie silence. I go back and wait.